


find joy in the living

by AAABatteries



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/F, Gen, Mentions of Past Captain Swan, angst with a... bittersweet ending, but mostly so i can a) write alice and hope as sisters and b) ignore gothel's existence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 12:55:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16682014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AAABatteries/pseuds/AAABatteries
Summary: Alice Jones is a loner with an active imagination, a stressed older sister, and a self-appointed duty to protect her town from the evils only she sees. Robin Mills doesn't know what it means to get mixed up with the local troll hugger (or was it hunter?), but she's determined to figure her out.





	find joy in the living

**Author's Note:**

> hey, hello! this is a little AU largely inspired by the movie/comic I Kill Giants! the instant I started this movie I got Alice vibes from the protagonist, and by the end, it had turned into a whole entire AU in my head, and I eventually realized I could, like, write that AU. so here we are.
> 
> if you're familiar with the source, you probably know where this is going. if not, enjoy the ride!
> 
> read on [Tumblr](http://zossie.tumblr.com/post/180306214366/find-joy-in-the-living-1)

****Slowly, Alice threaded her fingers through the bars of the lighthouse railing and took a long, deep breath. As she closed her eyes and exhaled, she felt the chill of the metal seep into her hands and the cool autumn breeze ruffle her hair ever so gently. The day had been peaceful. Quiet.

Perhaps _too_ quiet.

Alice opened one eye, then the other, and narrowed them at the sea. The calm, gray waves that lapped at the sand belied the rage she knew simmered inches beneath. The sky was overcast, and while there was no storm on the way—not in the literal sense—she couldn't help but feel a gnawing dread that made her tighten her grasp on the railing.

For a long moment, all she wanted to do was watch the birds meander about and lose herself in the sounds of the surf. _It would be so easy,_  she thought. _So simple._

She shook her head before she could think further down that rabbit hole. The siren song of the waves was tempting—it always was—but she had learned long ago not to trust it. It was only meant to lull her into a false sense of security, and she couldn't bear the thought of what would come should she let her guard down. What was more, she had a duty, and that duty currently involved investigating the soft shuffling noises coming from below.

Alice pushed back from the bars and spun on her heel. She slid open the door to the watch room with one hand and brought her mask back down over her face with the other. A notebook lay open on the desk inside, its pages covered with color-coded notes and detailed illustrations. She decided she was too pressed for time to write any complex observations and simply scrawled " _mermaids — waiting_ " in a blank space.

Her work done, she bolted for the stairs. She took the steps two at a time, the old metal clanking with effort. She let the rush of adrenaline carry her for several stories, until she nearly crashed into the landing.

The long, tight spiral of the stairs had left her lightheaded. She placed a hand against the wall to steady herself, her heart pounding in her ears.

_If that's enough to knock the wind out of you_ , she scolded herself, _how are you going to fare against real danger?_

Once more, Alice steeled herself, left the tower, and walked the narrow path to the beach. The ocean was louder now, the receding tide looking as if it were ready to whisk her out into the depths should she stray too close.

Alice frowned. She had lost track of the shuffling noises she had heard from atop the lighthouse.

_No matter_ , she concluded. _Probably caught in a trap_.

She took a step back and lined both of her feet up where the path down from the lighthouse turned from grassy hillside to rocky beach. Counting under her breath, she began to take careful steps forward, lining up heel to toe as she went.

_One, two, three...eight steps forward. Pivot. Fifteen steps right._

_There._

She spotted the frayed end of a rope peeking out from under the coarse sand. She reached down and began to pull, when—

"Hi."

Alice's heart leapt into her throat and she dropped the rope with a definitive _thud_ against the ground. She whirled around to see who the voice belonged to, praying that she hadn't jumped _too_ much at the interruption.

She brushed her mask upwards to get a better look. The speaker was a young girl—probably around her age, Alice guessed—with a tidy braid and an inquisitive smile, her eyes rising from the rope to Alice's face as she turned.

"Are you... playing a game?" the girl asked.

Alice bristled at the assumption. "I don't think so."

The girl's face fell slightly as Alice hastily shoved sand back over the rope with her foot.

"Oh," she replied. "If you were, I would join you, or... I dunno..."

Alice squinted. She had never seen this girl in her life, but the offer was a genuine one. Truth be told, she wouldn't mind the company. But her work was dangerous, and she hadn't found a single person she trusted to take it seriously. Or to take _her_ seriously.

"I'm Robin," the girl continued after a long silence, unprompted. "We just moved here, my mom and I. I'm pretty new around here, so..."

Alice averted her gaze down to the rope, still kicking sand over it, turning the girl's name over in her head.

"New Robin. So—Nobin."

In her periphery, she saw Robin shrug her head back in confusion.

"Yeah, don't call me that," she retorted.

"Why not?" Alice challenged.

"I—it's not..." Robin sputtered. Alice quirked an eyebrow at her.

"It's not cool," she admitted quietly.

Alice let out a wry laugh. "Why would you wanna be cool?"

The question seemed to leave Robin struggling for words.

“It’s not worth it,” Alice added, saving her the trouble, then, satisfied with her rope cover-up, turned back towards the hill.

“What’s the rope for?”

The sudden change in topic did not go unnoticed, but being _cool_ was hardly the first thing Alice wanted to talk about. This girl was a puzzle, Alice decided. She liked puzzles. She just wasn’t sure she wanted to accept the risks of solving this one.

“Pray you never find out,” she replied, her voice quiet and solemn. With that, she took several large steps onto the steep hillside.

Behind her, she heard a small, dejected, “Oh,” followed by a hopeful, “What about the rabbit mask?”

Alice drew a sharp breath, and in an automatic motion, her hand shot up to where the mask lay against her forehead, and snapped it down in front of her face. A pang of anxiety shot through her and she felt her fingers tense around the material, her grip tightening until she thought the mask might snap from the pressure.

She couldn’t break it now, like this. That thought was enough to loosen her grip and make her shakily release the breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding.

She turned back to Robin, guilt on her face. Robin, for her part, was wide-eyed and expectant, searching for an answer on Alice’s face. One that might be harder to see now that her mask obscured half of it.

“You have a pretty name,” Alice said, fully aware it was a non-answer, but it was the truth. She managed a smile and added, “and I like your hair.”

“Thanks,” Robin replied quickly. It was almost a question, as if she weren’t sure how to take it.

Alice stalked up the hill, faster this time, her face flushing both from the effort and the flurry of emotions she couldn’t quite parse. _New Robin_ was equal parts frustrating and fascinating. So long as she didn’t get tangled in her work, though, she didn’t think she minded.

Behind her, Robin reached for the buried end of rope.

* * *

_Alice fidgeted, her fingers picking at the soft wool of her new gloves. She shivered in the October air and threw her head back to glance upwards. She let out an involuntary gasp at the sight._

_She traced the spiral staircase up one story, then another, then another, and so on—the view was daunting in a hypnotic sort of way._

_“You up for all those stairs?”_

_She turned to Killian, a wide grin spreading across her face. “It’ll be an adventure!”_

_Alice started for the steps when a thought crossed her mind._

_“Hang on, are we_ allowed _in here? Doesn’t someone own the place?”_

_“Not any longer,” Killian replied. “I did some digging, and as it turns out, it’s been abandoned for years now. No one’s claimed it as of yet.”_

_There was something in the way he leaned on the word ‘yet’ and the hopeful smile that followed that made Alice wonder. She was still puzzling out what the surprise he was hiding was... and it wasn’t far now._

_“Race you to the top!” she cried, and took off at a run, bounding up the steps two at a time._

_Killian smiled to himself and sighed as he began to walk up the steps. “Don’t wear yourself out!” he called up to her. Alice responded with a giggle, which faded into the echoes of her boots clanging against the metal._

_Alice’s enthusiastic dash to the top slowed to a halt as she neared the final steps. The effort of the climb had begun to catch up with her, and she stopped and reached out for the railing to catch her breath. Behind her, she heard a slower, steadier set of footsteps grow louder, until Killian popped into view._

_“You alright there?” he asked, friendly amusement written on his face. She turned to face him, shook the hair out of her face, and answered with a wide smile and a laugh, still giddy from the exhaustion._

_“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’, then.”_

_“The people who work in these things, do they really have to climb all this way every day?” she asked, righting herself as he approached._

_“I’d wager they don’t bolt upstairs every time,” Killian reasoned._

_Alice frowned. “But that's the fun part!”_

_“I suppose they’re missing out.”_

_He stepped past her and poked his head through the opening into the floor above. “Almost there,” he said, then turned and extended his hand to Alice. She grasped it and followed him slowly up the remaining steps._

_As she stepped into the room, the atmosphere shifted. The chill of the hollow brick column was gone, replaced with an enveloping warmth that began to work its way through her body. She heard the muffled buzz of a space heater and smelled something suspiciously like marmalade._

_The lighthouse’s watch room had been converted into a cozy den. The walls were strewn with sheets and string lights, and several large pillows cushioned one corner of the room. On another side hung a cork board with a colorful assortment of push pins waiting to be used. Below it, Alice recognized her desk and her art supplies, along with what could only be a new set of paints._

_She stared, a disbelieving smile beginning to play across her lips. She continued scanning the room until she saw Killian looking at her expectantly._

_“Is it—is it all—I mean—” she stammered._

_“Aye,” he answered. “There were a few other things of yours I thought you might like to have here, like your_ Dungeons and Drag— _”_

_“_ Pathfinder _,” Alice corrected automatically._

_“Right. Like your_ Pathfinder _books,” he amended. “Things get a bit chaotic at home sometimes and sometimes don’t seem to get the space to yourself that you need.”_

_Alice blinked. He was right. She had spent many a night with her ears burrowed in her pillows, trying to block out the whole world when it was all too much. “You noticed?”_

_“Of course. And I know how much time you like to spend by the beach, so when I looked into the old lighthouse here... it just came together.”_

_A mixture of joy and relief overwhelmed her all at once, and she burst into a wide grin. Without hesitation, she threw her arms up around Killian and pressed her face into the soft fabric of his sweater. “Thank you so much, papa,” she whispered._

_He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Happy birthday, starfish.”_

_They were still for a moment, until Alice took a step back, a capricious gleam in her eye. “So, is it marmalade time?”_

_“Nothing gets past your nose, does it?”_

_She beamed._

_Killian turned and reached for a brown paper bag sitting atop the desk, then began to walk towards the door to the balcony. “Care to eat outside?” he asked._

_Alice bounced past him to open the door and a rush of cool air hit her._

_"Too cold?"_

_"It's not too bad!" she remarked. "And it's worth it for the view."_

_The sea was nothing new to her—she had grown up by it, the gentle beating of the waves marking the passage of time. The view, however, never tired her, and something about seeing it from a new height struck her. The massive hillside looked smaller, the ocean farther away. She was secure up here._

_She dashed to the railing and leaned forward, taking in the smell of the sea salt. The sky was gray, clouds blotting out the sun, but she could see it glinting off the water's surface some distance from the shore._

_Behind her, Killian sat down cross-legged with the bag and pulled out a sandwich. Alice turned, mirrored him, and reached into the bag for the other._

_For a while, she merely traced the seagulls' lazy flight paths with her eyes. She let the punch of the marmalade and the sounds of the surf overwhelm her senses._

_"What do you suppose is out there?" Killian asked._

_She turned and studied the waves, watching them ebb and flow, looking for unseen currents or unusual patterns as she pondered the question._

_"Mermaids," she said matter-of-factly._

_"Mermaids?"_

_"Yep! You can't see 'em, but if you listen real closely," she paused for effect, listening between the waves and the breeze, "you can hear them calling out."_

_Killian smiled. "Like sirens, then."_

_She cocked her head to one side, thinking. "A little bit. Only I haven't decided if they're good or bad yet."_

_"Well, I certainly hope it's the first option."_

_She was silent for a moment, before answering, "I hope so too."_

_They continued in the same fashion as the sandwiches shrank and Alice expounded on how the birds would trace sigils in the sky and a friendly troll would say hello to her on her walks through the woods. Her world was dangerous, but that was what made it all the more exciting to her._

_"Think I'm starting to get a bit cold," she said, after a spiel on an animal named_ Mr. Rabbit _she was determined knew the location of a portal or two._

_Killian agreed. "Why don't we step back inside, then? Or go home, if you'd rather."_

_"I think I like it here," she said, getting to her feet._

_"Alright," he said, a knowing smile on his face, "but we can't be_ too _long. I think your sister's got something for you when we return."_

_Her face lit up at the thought. "Not too long, then!"_

_As made their way back inside, Alice felt another wave of relief at the warmth of the interior. She looked around the room for something to do when her eyes lit on a folded up chess board tucked underneath the desk._

_"How about a game?" she offered, reaching for the board._

_"Since when did you know how to play chess?" he asked, incredulous._

_"Hope taught me!" she said, beaming with pride._

_Killian grinned. "Seems she beat me to it, then."_

_Alice grabbed a cushion and unfolded the board, dumping its contents unceremoniously on the floor._

_"She beat_ me _at the game, too," she said._

_He sat across from her and began separating the pieces by color. "Well, I should warn you—she learned from the best."_

_Alice laughed. "We'll see about that," she challenged._

* * *

Alice frowned, tapping the eraser of her pencil against the spell list in front of her. She had been looking forward to building this character in her free time, and yet nothing seemed _right_ to her today.

On the other side of the room, Hope was scrubbing the last few dishes clean, phone tucked under her ear, muttering something about _overtime_ and _dinner._ Alice wasn't interested in eavesdropping—the topic was far too mundane for her taste—so she turned her attention back to her character sheet.

_A few levels in rogue?_ she wondered.

It was no good. _New Robin_ and _it's not cool_ were stuck in her head. She was frustrated she had missed the opportunity to check her traps before Hope called her home for dinner. Not with her sister, not with the other girl, but for her own hesitance to stick around. Fear had seized her in that moment—the last time she let someone her own age into her world, she had earned nothing but ridicule and a bad reputation.

Robin didn't seem so bad. But neither had anyone else, at first.

"You know, I'd play your  _Dragons_ or whatever if you asked me to," Hope said, startling Alice from her thoughts.

She had moved across the room and was now standing opposite where Alice sat slumped in a chair with her clipboard. Hope looked tired, her dark hair falling into her face at odd angles and her face pale. She was smiling, though, and from what Alice could tell, she meant it.

Alice bit back the urge to correct her on the name. _Close enough._

"That would be hilarious," she said instead.

Hope sighed and raised an eyebrow.

"You're serious?" Alice asked, disbelieving.

"Why not?" Hope answered with a friendly shrug. "Just—I'd play if you asked me to, is all."

She imagined Hope poring over the rulebooks in confusion, asking her endless clarifying questions and _is this all really necessary?_ She had to admit it would be a welcome change—it had been years since the two of them had played any sort of games together. She missed it, in a way. But she couldn't imagine it happening now.

Hope's phone buzzed.

"When, exactly?" she asked.

Hope flashed her an apologetic look and reached for her phone, then grimaced at the number. "I have to take this."

Phone in hand, Hope turned the corner and answered, her footsteps fading up the stairs.

Alice turned back to the character sheet.

_Figures._

She had lost her train of thought, however, and slammed down her clipboard in frustration. She stood up from her chair and paced around the room, turning back and forth rapidly. Hope's voice trailed down from the upper floor, her words muffled.

Deciding it beat agonizing over a build she wouldn't finish, Alice crept closer to the stairs.

As she neared the bottom step, she could feel her heart beating faster, blood rushing to her ears. She hadn't touched those steps in ages. She _swore_ she wouldn't.

The shadows cast by the railing grew more sinister as she looked at them, the darkness deepening and a menacing whisper taunting her where she stood. She could almost feel them threatening to creep down the steps and swallow her whole.

She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut to clear the thought from her mind. When she opened them again, the shadows had retreated to their normal size, and she felt herself release a breath she didn't realize she had been holding. As she did so, she relaxed her hands, finding she had pressed her thumb deep into the ink spiral on her wrist.

Alice drew a circle over it with her thumb, noticing the ink had smudged under the pressure.

The mark was a reminder of the reason she wouldn't— _couldn't_ —go upstairs, she told herself. She would keep drawing it for as long as she needed.

"...well, we're allowed three personal days, and I know he considers personal attendance," came Hope's voice.

There was a pause. Alice contented herself with sitting by the bottom step and leaning against the wall silently.

"No, my sister, she's just a kid," Hope's voice came again, exasperation in her tone. It was masked for formality's sake, but Alice knew when her sister was upset. "She can't help, she's—she can't help with anything."

Alice bit her lip. She knew Hope was referring to work, but it didn't make the words any better.

_I'm doing everything I can,_ she thought, bitter.

There was offense in her voice now. "I'm not a _special case_ , I'm just asking for common courtesy. No, obviously I want to keep my job, I'm just—"

Her voice cracked as Alice heard the person on the other end interrupt.

"Okay. Okay, thank you so much. Thank you. Bye."

The call clicked to an end.

Alice was about to get to her feet when she heard a sharp exhale and a muffled sob, followed by silence. It was enough to make her feel guilty for her earlier frustration with her sister, but no amount of crying would be enough to move her a single step upstairs to comfort her.

Instead, she rose quietly, grabbed her clipboard where it lay haphazardly on the floor, and slipped downstairs.

She would fix things eventually. She _knew_ it.


End file.
